


Guilty Conscience

by Mandergee



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1536365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandergee/pseuds/Mandergee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd begun to bond a bit with Ms.Hudson, the only other woman Joan Watson ever seemed to see, and a discussion about Mycroft was bound to be on the radar, one of these days. (May contain slight spoilers for "The Man With the Twisted Lip", ep 2x21)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilty Conscience

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the formatting- I'm still getting a handle on it, and I confess to not being terribly familiar with the posting here as I'd like to be. Thank you for your understanding!
> 
> And slight spoilers for "The Man With The Twisted Lip", although I took some liberties with things. So if you haven't watched this season yet I would avoid this just to be on the safe side.

"So you did sleep with him, then." It was certainly not a question, and as Ms.Hudson leaned over to casually fluff a pillow Joan sighed, unable to find any good excuse in her mind as to why she should try to hide it from the only person who didn't seem to have an opinion. 

"Yes. I did." She’d been left alone with Mycroft after Sherlock had taken off with Captain Gregson on what was explained to be a quick interview involving a cold case- one Sherlock had been intimately familiar with, but Joan had yet to touch in the trunk full of files. She'd offered tea, offered herself up only when the look in his eyes had reminded her of what she'd seen in London that had first drawn her into his bed. And while she didn't find herself regretting it then, in the heat of the moment, she wondered why she didn't feel the slightest bit of regret at doing so now, after she'd made the decision not to come between her partner and his brother. 

"And? Come on, a woman doesn't get to discuss these things if she doesn't have another woman around." They'd bonded, she and their casual housekeeper, in the many times that Sherlock had been otherwise occupied and Joan had felt the need to apologize for the constant state of chaos that seemed to fill the rooms of the brownstone. There was no need, she felt, for the place to be a disaster just because they had someone coming in steadily to clean it. "You must be feeling a bit guilty." 

"Guilty?" She was surprised to hear someone else voice that particular emotion in regards to her encounter with Mycroft Holmes. She'd imagined that if anyone else were to know about it they'd classify her feelings more toward the 'ashamed' category. _You slept with your partner's brother- don't you feel ashamed of yourself?_ But no, she didn't feel shame, either. "I feel a bit guilty, yes. I swore it wouldn't happen again." 

"But you didn't expect him to come back, did you?" Ms.Hudson was familiar, of course, with Mycroft's previous visit, and also aware that it had been the time Sherlock had observed what had led him to uncover their prior engagement in London. "It took you by surprise, I imagine." 

It had. Seeing him there chopping shallots when she'd walked into the kitchen had sent her mind reeling, though she'd managed to reign in any shock and desire with Sherlock directly on her heels. The smile on his face had been the first thing she'd found herself attracted to- the blue eyes an immediate second. Sherlock's eyes were a rich brown, the expression on his face rarely differing from the range of surly grimaces and occasional soft smile he thought no one ever noticed. But with Mycroft- there had been something different about him that was obvious and something that wasn't, though she couldn't put her finger on the latter and somehow that made him a great deal more attractive. 

"He's staying for another week. I think. To get the restaurant launched before he heads home." She'd agreed to be his date, as they'd lain beneath her comforter and his fingertips had lingered softly on her hips, tapping a gentle rhythm now and again as she buried her face into the crook of his shoulder. So many men she'd slept with over the years had been so sweet and attentive, but none had been as loving, gentle or as passionate as Mycroft. "I've agreed to be his date for the opening." 

"Does Sherlock know?" They both knew how it would go over if he did know- when he would find out, which would inevitably be the case. She'd come down the stairs, dressed for something much fancier than her average night out, and he'd deduce that it had something to do with his brother. He'd been invited, Mycroft had told her that much, and she knew as much as she wanted to go that Sherlock wouldn't. "Of course he does; he's probably already figured it out."

"It's pretty likely." He hadn't said anything, though she knew that never meant a great deal. He would when he was ready, if he did know anything at all. 

"Do you think you'll see him again? After that?" Something in the question made her pause: whether it was the suggestion of a future or the odd lilt of concern in Ms.Hudson's voice, she wasn't certain. But whatever it was, she couldn't quite figure out how to answer. 

"I don't know." How could she know, when she wasn't even sure how she felt about him. Had anyone asked her a week ago, Joan Watson would have said that there was no one special in her life whom she even felt compelled to share her day with. But now, after nights spent in bed and having deep, intimate conversations with someone she'd have never pictured herself with, she wondered if that simple fact hadn't changed. "I guess it all depends on how things go." 

"With him, or with Sherlock?" The last of the knicknacks was dusted, and Ms.Hudson said her goodbyes with a brief shout up the stairs to Sherlock, and a gentle, understanding smile to Joan. As the front door closed and the building became quiet again, Joan pulled her phone from a pocket and considered it carefully before pressing the lock and dialing out. 

"It's me," The voice on the other end brought a smile to her face, and she stepped to the window to watch Ms.Hudson slip into a cab and ride away. Their conversation nagged at her, something in the last question posed making her crave anything that could help her shake it off. "Are you free tonight? Your place?" 

_"My dear Watson, for you I am always."_

"I'll be there soon." She'd been happier than she'd expected when he'd chosen to rent an apartment not far from the precinct, so easy for her to make the trip encompass multiple purposes. Two birds, one stone. "Bye." 

"You're headed out." Sherlock had come down from the roof as she'd taken her coat from the hook, holding it to allow for her arms to slide in. "Headed to the precinct?"

"How did you-" The stack of manilla folders she'd gathered caught her eye, and she nodded. "Yeah, I have a few things to take to Marcus. I won't be long, if you want to order dinner when I get back?" 

He gave his own acknowledgement- a stiff nod- before pivoting and heading in to the display of locks, surveying them with a concentrated gaze.

"I shall be rearranging the locks this evening, Watson, until your return." The guilt crested again in a brief, thick wave as she closed the door behind her and began the walk to where she'd hail the cab- where she'd determined was just out of viewing range of the living room windows. It wasn't a guilt she knew stemmed from any deeper want she had- nothing like Sherlock had suggested. She didn't want him, wasn't sleeping with his brother to get any sort of 'cheap knockoff' version. She wanted Mycroft because there was something about him that she found attractive, the proper English behavior and common way of thinking had caught her off guard. But the guilt came from the hiding, although she couldn't quite pinpoint why she thought she had to hide at all. 

She was halfway to her destination before she realized she'd left the folders on the coat rack, and she wondered how long it would take before Sherlock would figure it out. Or if, subconsciously, she'd left them behind so he would. 

Either way, she thought, it won't be long now.

She even thought she might be relieved. 

**Author's Note:**

> What has always bothered me about the comments in regards to this relationship are that people don't like Mycroft often because of how he looks (and I know that's not the only reason, but that's for another place). Granted, he's not what I picture for Joan either. But the catch is- you can never help who you fall for, and even if we all imagine Joan falling for someone different, she fell for Mycroft. And yes, Sherlock's feelings are not the most important here- but like it or not, Joan would think of his feelings too, because that's the type of person the character is. So in this case I felt this needed to be written.


End file.
